Facing the Past
by troublegirl
Summary: What if Dylan had gone to Seamus instead of driving to Mexico? Dylan and Seamus face their past and the feelings they still have for each other...now rated R! NOTE: CHAPTER 9 UPLOADED!
1. Chapter 1: Dylan

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, although I would love to own Seamus. Darn! I have simply borrowed them.

A/N: This is my first fan fic of any kind. Hope you all like it. I just couldn't be satisfied with the ending of the movie…Seamus and Dylan are made for each other. This chapter is a strong PG-13, and following chapters may very well become R. I have to have some D/S lovin' going on!

"You always fall for the bad guy, Dylan."

"Well, then this guy must be really evil…"

The words from her conversation with Alex the previous day swirled through Dylan's head as Seamus slowly stalked down the gangplank toward them. Although when she heard he had been busted from jail she knew he would try to find her, she was still stunned to see him in the flesh after 8 years. 

He looked different, his solid but soft body of 8 years ago had been slimmed and toned into a perfect physic, his stomach muscles were so tight that she swore she could grate cheese on them. He had acquired several more tattoos while in prison, and the effect of those, coupled with his rippling muscles and the murderous glare in his eyes created the image of a lean killing machine.

Dimly, Dylan realized that he was talking to her, telling her how long he had waited for this moment. She blinked, trying to stop the memories of the two of them together, cruising around in his camaro, fucking to Black Sabbath and Billy Idol, and making jokes that only the two of them got. *Pull yourself together, Dylan! Don't let him get to you. He came back for one reason only – to kill you. Don't let your old feelings get in the way!*. 

"Helen, I see you've still got the same lovely arse on ya." Seamus drawled in that incredible accent that used to make her so hot. In fact, it still made her hot, but when she remembered that he was a killer and that he had her planned as his next victim, she was able to push that feeling aside.

Dylan could feel Nat and Alex on either side of her, itching for action. Could they sense the turmoil going on inside of her at the sight of him? Or more importantly, could he sense it?

As members of his gang gathered behind him brandishing various weapons, Nat and Alex's confidence waned slightly, but they had faced worse. Dylan's confidence was very shaky indeed – she knew that Seamus was an excellent fighter – and that she would have to fight him. "Give us the rings" commanded Seamus, and Dylan saw herself slowly reach her hand toward him, the large rings jangling on her tiny finger. As he took the rings from her, his finger sensuously traced down hers, causing Dylan to shiver involuntarily at the contact. *God, I hope the bastard didn't notice that* she thought.

She glanced up at him to see his reaction and realized her mistake. His bright green eyes locked on hers, and it was if he was hypnotizing her with his gaze. Then she sensed Alex spring into action to turn off the lights and her body went on auto-pilot, flipping into the air and over the heads of Seamus and his men. The men were confused, shooting off into the darkness, but Seamus was quick to turn the lights back on.

"You know I always like it with the lights on" he said to her. And there it was again, a sudden desire for this man who she had sent to jail and had hidden from for years. A brief memory of their passion and equally insatiable appetites for sex and each other shot through her. Once again she shook it off, and she and the girls sprang into action, determinedly punching and roundhouse kicking men twice their size. She could feel Seamus watching her, and knew that he was waiting for his turn with her, and that he would fight with her alone. 

Then suddenly he was there, lunging at her with her with his pair of carved machetes. She dodged and countered. "You're getting good Helen" he said as she knocked away one of the machetes. 

"You don't know me anymore Seamus" she spit, trying to sound confident and not as scared as she felt.

"I'm the only one here who truly knows you Helen" he sent back to her, sending a chill up her spine. It was true – he was the only one here who knew about her past, about Helen Zass, her lonely childhood, her secret dreams, her kinky desires and just how to touch her body.

However much part of her realized he was right, the other, logical, "Angel" part of her refused to listen to him and continued to fight. He was incredibly strong, making it almost impossible to hurt him. His fist smashed into the steel container he had thrown her against, and his hand indented the metal. Then he grabbed her throat in a vice-like grip, raising her off the ground. As she struggled she looked down into his eyes and thought she saw a mix of emotions in them, rather than the pure hate she had expected. 

She broke away from him, but he followed and pinned her against a crate, his body on top of hers and his crotch grinding against her ass. "I must say, Helen, that I've never wanted you more." She knew he was telling the truth, she could feel his hardness pushing against her, and again felt that traitorous rush of desire. *What the hell is wrong with me? He's a killer! I am such a sick bitch!* 

"Silly Seamus. Always wanting what you can't have." She forced him off of her and searched for an escape route, noticing that Nat and Alex had finished most of the other thugs off. As Seamus came at her with a hatchet she grabbed a hold of a rope that he quickly severed, causing the cargo from above to come crashing down and sending her up toward the ceiling. Nat and Alex were barely able to jump and grab onto her. They went shooting out of the ship, and skated down the dock rope to safety on wooden planks. Running with the other Angels, Dylan heard a large thud and then feet running behind her, and knew without a doubt it was Seamus. Somehow, she knew that only he could survive the 30 foot fall.

The Angels rounded a corner ahead of their pursuers. Knowing they had stop him, Nat had already started the gas pump, and Dylan tossed her favorite lighter out to light the fuel. As Seamus rounded the corner, Alex sprayed the area in front of him with the improvised flame thrower, effectively cutting off Seamus and his gang. With a "come on Dylan!", Alex and Nat ran away toward their get-away boat. Dylan started to follow but slipped on the wet dock. As she looked back at the flames, she allowed herself a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. Then she saw him.

Seamus was actually walking through the walls of flame, his beautiful and deadly body sweaty and glowing red in the light of the fire. "You can't hurt me anymore Helen. I'm going to teach you and your friends about pain." His words sent a chill down into her very core. She knew that he was not above killing her friends to get to her. She backpedaled on the ground, staring at him, a devil standing in the flames of hell. Then she finally managed to get to her feet and followed her friends. He didn't follow. She jumped into the boat, and her friends turned to look at her. "Are you ok?" They asked worriedly. 

"Sure, I'm fine" she replied with a small fake smile. But inside she wasn't ok. Not at all. She had faced a demon from the past, and had discovered that part of her still wanted him. 


	2. Chapter 2: Seamus

 A/N:  Thanks for the reviews!   It makes my day!  This is the same part except from Seamus' point of view.  It's pretty strong PG-13 (I just can't help myself!)  Chapter 3 will be up soon.

He had known that she would come.  He knew Helen.  Overconfident in her abilities and foolhardy, she would come even knowing that he would be waiting for her.  Qualities he had loved in her once.  Once.

He knew the minute she and her friends had the rings.  He waited 10 seconds, and then "Oi, going so soon.  Couldn't wait for me 5 minutes, Helen?  Well I've waited for you…" and he had, oh he had waited.  Waited for this day when he could see her again.  He had had 8 years to fantasize about it, about what she was going to look like, what he would say, how she would react, and how he would fight her and kill her, relishing the moment.

But this sudden exposure to her in the flesh was different than he anticipated, simply because he hadn't expected to still want her, to feel the pull of her body even though they were 20 feet from each other.   As he strolled toward her, reciting the words he had always imagined saying to her, he allowed himself time to look her over, examine her and watch for her reaction.  She had allowed her natural red hair to finally come forth instead of the bleach blonde locks he had caressed years ago.  It suited her.  Her face was older, but even more beautiful than he remembered.  Her body was toned and firm, powerful yet still possessing luscious curves.  His eyes lingered on her ass, and remembered how, years ago, he had sworn to her that he could pick her ass out of a line-up, he loved it so much.

"Helen, I see you've still got the same lovely arse on ya" he drew out, watching her reaction.  Her face remained stony, but in her eyes he could see a swirl of emotions.  Those eyes he used to lose himself – full of fire and passion just for him.

He felt his brothers-in-arms gather behind him as backup.  He would need them to distract the other two girls, for whom he only had a quick glance.  His eyes were completely focused on Helen.  She had the rings, he could see them dangling on her pointy finger.  "Give us the rings" he commanded, reaching out his hand.

He could see the hesitation in her face, waiting, testing him, uncertain of the situation.  "Give us the rings" he commanded a second time, reaching out his hand toward her.  Finally, she gave in, holding out her small hand so he could take the rings.  As he did so, he purposefully slid this forefinger lightly over hers, partially to see what her reaction was and also partly as an excuse to touch her.  

The slight touch made him tremble on the inside, and he watched her intently to see if it affected her in the same way.  He was rewarded by her tiny shiver and the slight movement thrilled him.  He could still touch her – he who in the past was able to illicit her passionate reaction with a simple caress.  Seamus knew that through 8 years in which she could have been making a new life her every attempt at a relationship had failed miserably, and now he knew why.  She still wanted him, even after everything that had happened.  He himself had spent that time dreaming of her – her sweet body, her beautiful face, and how she would look when he killed her.  

She raised her eyes to look at him, and he stared right back at her, daring her to look away, and demanding that she face up to her past.  Her hazel eyes held courage, confusion, hate, and just the smallest amount of fear.  Was that desire he saw also?  He wasn't sure. Her tall skinny friend finally spoke up, claiming that she would have the rings back within 48 seconds.  Seamus could feel a fight coming, and his body was twitching in anticipation.

Suddenly they were plunged into darkness as the black-haired chick kicked off the lights.  When the machine guns were finished blasting *what the fuck are they thinking?  I told 'em that she was mine to kill!*  Seamus flipped the lights back on, looking over his shoulder at Helen as he did so.  "You know I always like it with the lights on" he berated her, and her eyes widened slightly at his comment.  

Then she and her friends launched into action, kicking and punching his men who were twice their weight.  The other two girls were good, flipping through the air and evading the attacks of his boys.  He only had eyes for Helen though, and he stood watching her brutally punch O'Connell in the jaw.  She had always been a fighter, tough as nails – just one of the things that had attracted him to her.  He had taught her a few moves when they were dating, and she had once protected herself in a real nasty bar fight.  But over the years she had improved so much that she was incredible to watch.  She was hitting with a strength that none would suspect from her tiny frame, and he found himself wanting to bend her over a crate and spank her sweet arse as he pounded into her.  He was itching to fight her.

Seamus grabbed his favorite weapons – 2 carved machetes given to him by his uncle.  He saw his opportunity and lunged toward her with both blades pointing at her neck.  She effortlessly dodged him and with an ariel missed his next attack.  "You've gotten good Helen", he complimented her.  

With a roundhouse she kicked away one of his machetes.  "You don't know me anymore, Seamus" she spat at him, sinking into a fighting stance on the floor in front of him.

"I'm the only one here who truly knows you." He sent back to her, knowing that it was the truth.  He was sure that her friends knew nothing of Helen's violent childhood, unloving family, dark passions, or…He had researched her entire life since he had been released from prison, and so he knew about her failed relationships, her loneliness, her Angel's training, and her desire to forget her past.  Trouble for her was that he was her past, and he was here to stay.

Seamus could see in her slight hesitation that she knew his statement was true too, even though she was loath to admit it.  She lunged at him and he flung her against a steel cargo container.  Suddenly his rage exploded – * How dare you deny the truth? You belong to me, little bitch!  How could you do that to me?  How could you throw away what we had?*  She looked at him, slightly stunned, and barely moved as he smashed his hand into the steel next to her head, denting it in a few inches.  Before she could react again, he had gripped her throat, his arm muscles clenched like a vice as he lifted her off the ground.  This way, she looked so helpless, so harmless, so beautiful…

Thunk!  She had taken advantage of his momentary lapse of concentration and had broken away from him.   Seamus was right behind her, and managed to pin her against a wooden crate, with his hips flush against her still perfect ass.  * God, Helen!  You feel better than I remember! * "You know Helen, I've never wanted you more."

She trembled slightly in his arms, then pushed him away.  "Typical Seamus.  You've always wanted what you couldn't have." She taunted back.

She ran away from him, and Seamus picked up a hand axe and rushed after her.  He let his anger take over as he slashed at her with the axe, but with a quick jump she was up a rope that he immediately cut.  At once, the heavy cargo that had been hanging by the rope began to plummet to the ground, shooting Helen and the others (who had quickly jumped on) up toward the ceiling.  

He knew that she would try to leave the boat, so he pounded up the stairs to the deck, several of his men fast behind him.   As he got to the deck he saw the 3 women slide down the docking rope on wood planks.  Seeing Helen getting away from him, Seamus didn't even think twice as he flung himself over the side of the boat, dropping 30 feet to land hard on the dock.  *Fuck woman!* He shook himself off and ran after her.  As he rounded the corner of the dock, he saw the black haired girl spraying the dock with fire from a flamethrower.  Helen was standing next to her, watching him.  

His friends tried to hold him back, but Seamus knew that he had to get to her.  *Nothing can hurt me now, Helen…you see, I'll walk through fire to get you*  He steeled himself and slowly began walking through the flames.  He could feel the heat around him but he was focused on her.  As he came through the last layer of flames, he saw Helen, lying on the ground were she had evidently fallen.  Her eyes widened and for the first time he thought she truly looked scared, seeing him emerge from the flames.  "Seamus…" he saw her silently mouth.

He strode toward her, watching her backpedal on the ground.  "Nothing you can do can hurt me now, Helen.  I'm going to teach you and your friends about pain."  He knew that she could take a threat to herself but not to her friends.  *Ahhh Helen, always the protector, you were.  I know you Helen.*  Her eyes held his, and he could see the confusion, fear, and desire that she was feeling.  It was like heroin to him, both quenching his need to dominate her and fueling his desire for more, for her.

She finally made it to her feet, and with one more glance over her shoulder, ran off to join her friends.  Seamus was not upset about her getting away, because he knew he had planted the seed in her mind, and that the next time, she would come to him.

And he knew he could wait.  He was good at waiting.  And he would wait forever to get Helen.


	3. Chapter 3: Dylan's Dilemma

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A/N:  Thanks all for the reviews.  This is probably the last PG-13 chapter, and where the story begins to branch from the movie.  Hope you all enjoy.  If you want the lyrics to the full Garbage song, then please go to one of their fan sites.  I obviously don't own the rights to the song.

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Dylan drove home in her red Camaro, barely paying attention to the road.  The 3 Angels had been rather subdued when they arrived back at Charlie's, each thinking about the evening's fight and the day's events.  Nat and Alex had plans for later that night, but they were concerned about Dylan.  Both said that they would cancel their evening plans to hang out and comfort her with movies, beer and ice cream, but she had laughed them off, saying that she was fine and that they should go have fun.  

Of course, she wasn't fine.  Seeing Seamus again had scared and confused her in ways she didn't even want to think about.  During his years in prison she had tried to put him out of her mind, and had been successful in that she had gained peace of mind, knowing that she had put a killer in jail for life.  Seamus had still held an influence over her life in other ways, though.  He would only have to glance at her car to know that.  Dylan had loved Seamus' '68 Camaro so much that she had bought one for herself – it even had the same white racing stripes as his car.  *The car we used to ride around in * she sighed.  He had been a speed demon just like her, punching the gas and leaving rubber whenever he drove off.  

"Dammit Dylan, pull yourself together." She quietly commanded herself.  "Stop reminiscing – that's just the man you thought you knew…he's really just a cold-blooded killer.  And now he's after you."  But somehow she wondered why she felt like she was trying to convince herself.  * Shit *  She flipped on the radio.  Garbage's song #1 Crush was playing.   * Haven't heard this song in a while * she thought, and started humming along.  
  
I will pray for you  
I will pray for you  
I will sell my soul for something pure and true  
Someone like you  
  
See your face every place that I walk in  
Hear your voice every time that I'm talking  
You will believe in me  
And I will never be ignored

For some reason, this song was beginning to remind her of Seamus.  She wanted to switch the channel, but some inner force held her back, forcing her to listen to the rest of the song.  
  
I will burn for you  
Feel pain for you  
I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart  
And tear it apart  
  
I will lie for you  
Beg and steal for you  
I will crawl on hands and knees until you see  
You're just like me  
  
 *Oh God *  She knew the words that were coming, had sung along with them many times before, and those times they had been meaningless. This time it was different though.  She remembered what she had said to Seamus the night she saw him murder De Franco.  * I love you Seamus.  I would die for you! *  
  
I would die for you  
I would kill for you  
I will steal for you  
I'd do time for you  
I will wait for you

* He did do time…and he's been waiting for me…he'll kill again just to get to me*

I'd make room for you  
I'd sink ships for you  
To be close to you  
To be part of you  
Cause I believe in you  
I believe in you  
I would die for you 

As the song ended, Dylan let out a shaky breath and turned onto her street.  "You're strong Dylan.  You can beat him.  That's all in the past.  The past is over."  She parked the car and quickly ran up the stairs to her apartment, looking over her shoulder as she went.  * Is this how it's going to be from now on?  Always watching my back, thinking that he's coming for me?  That he's waiting somewhere to kill me? *

She unlocked the apartment, flicking the lights on and scanning the room.  Nothing seemed out of place.  With a small sigh of relief, she stepped into the apartment and closed the door.  Then she noticed a piece of mail on the floor, a plain white envelope.  *Stupid landlord.  Why didn't he give this to me earlier today with the rest? * She bent to pick it up and stiffened.  On the front, in all too recognizable handwriting was written "For Helen."  * Seamus * She jumped to attention, and began a quick and thorough search of the apartment.  Seamus was not there, and there was no evidence that anyone else had been there either.

She briefly thought about calling Nat; she always seemed to know what to do.  But Dylan tossed aside that idea – Natalie was at Pete's 10-year high school reunion.  It wouldn't be fair to disturb her.  She slowly sat down on her couch and with shaky fingers opened the envelope.  Inside a brief letter read:

"Helen – 

So good to see you again.  You know you can't run from me.  I'll be waiting for you.  You'll do the right thing, I know it.  I know you Helen.  

Dock 22, 3rd streetlight

- Seamus"

Dylan felt cold.  What the hell was she supposed to do with this?  She looked at the VCR clock.  9:28.  Tiredly brushing her auburn hair out of her face, she recalled her conversation with Alex the day before during the stakeout. * Was that really just yesterday?  So much has happened that it seems like a week ago…*   "Who do you think will be the first to leave the Angels?" Alex had asked.  Both of them had assumed it would be Natalie, since she was becoming seriously involved with Pete.  Nat would make a beautiful bride, Dylan thought.  And she deserved to be happy – she was a great person and a good friend.  Alex, well, she was sure to get back with Jason.  The two of them went perfectly together, and he was a good guy, silly action movies aside.  Alex's future would be a bright one, as she could turn her hand to anything and do well.  But what kind of future would Alex and Nat have if Seamus was still around to torment and kill them?    
  


Dylan sat in a daze, her hands tightly clenched in her lap.  She would do anything to protect her girls, who had become her only family since the Witness Protection Program.  * Since him * that tiny inner voice said, but she shut it out.  It was obvious that he expected her to come to him in exchange for keeping her friends safe.  But what would he do to her?  Dylan was not afraid of death – she had faced it too many times.  But deep inside, she was very frightened of Seamus – in his hatred for her, she could imagine hundreds of horrible things he might do to her.  * He could never hurt you Helen…he still loves you *   This thought shook Dylan out of her reverie, shocked not only by the impossible thought that Seamus still loved her, but also by the fact that she had referred to herself as Helen in her thoughts. 

"I'm not Helen anymore.  Helen Zass is dead.  I'm Dylan Saunders.  That's all that remains." She said firmly.  * I'm going to take out that bastard myself *


	4. Chapter 4: Waiting for Helen

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A/N: ok, it has come to my humble attention that Dylan's Camaro is white with red racing stripes, not red with white stripes.  Oops! Sorry about the error, and from now on I will refer to her car as being white.  Thanks to you all for the reviews…let me know if the chapters after this one should be rated R, because I may have no concept of the FanFiction.net rating system.  I will have some more UST in the following chapters…*wink* *wink* 

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He knew when she got home.  Joseph was parked across the street from her apartment complex and saw the white Camaro squeal into it's designated parking place at 9:12.  He had radioed Seamus to let him know she was going into the building.

*So you've got our Camaro, eh Helen?  Couldn't let go of the memories? *  He smirked, thinking of his own memories of them in the car.  * Those were good times, weren't they sweetheart?*  Helen had always had good taste in cars – she had known more about them than most of his friends.  Thus he hadn't been surprised to learn that she had done monster truck racing for a year, or that she had captured several "baddies" through high-speed car chases.  She was a speed demon, just like he was.  

Seamus sat in the Merkin's captain's office, sharpening his favorite knife.  He guessed it would only take her a few minutes to find his letter.  She would probably do a search of the apartment, thinking that he was there waiting for her.  He wasn't that stupid though.  Much smarter and safer to let her come to him.  Besides, much as he wanted to kill her, it just wouldn't do to have it end so quickly.  

The last few day's events seemed unreal to him – after eight years in prison it was strange to be out, the master of his own destiny once more, free to do whatever the fuck he pleased.  Seamus thought about the day he heard he was getting out * 2 days ago? * He had been furiously doing crunches in his cell, his abs groaning with the strain.  One of the wardens had approached his cell and said "O'Grady.  You're out."  Magical words, they were.  He had jumped down from the ceiling, landing gracefully from years of practice.   His eyes immediately rested on the picture of Helen on his wall.  For the last eight years her beautiful picture was the only decoration in his otherwise bleak cell, his one focus.   He knew the first thing he wanted to do was find her.  All else could wait.

The HALO rings he had been given upon his release hadn't mattered very much to him – they would only insure that Helen came to him, rather than he having to hunt her down.  It was his father back in Ireland that was more interested in the rings, since Innis still ran the O'Grady clan and had hundreds of scores to settle.  The day after his release, Seamus had heard with interest that a key witness against the O'Gradys had been killed.  It was both a convenient death and a suspicious one – convenient in that it would work to lure Helen in, suspicious in that he had no idea who had done it.  Neither he nor his men had had anything to do with the murder, but he wasn't sure if it was a merely a coincidence or if someone had purposefully performed the hit.  The way Seamus figured, if it was the latter, then someone already had the HALO list – presumably the guy who had given him the rings in the first place.  If the list was already out, then there was no fucking way that he was going to pay full price for it…if he ever got a chance to get it back.  * Stupid bird and her fucking friends…well, you stupid git, you knew she'd come for it, and get it…it's your own fault.  Da is goina kill me*

The phone rang, bringing Seamus abruptly out of his reverie.  It was Joseph, calling to report that Helen had just left her house.  Setting down the phone, Seamus mentally worked out a time table in his mind.  He figured it would take her about an hour and a half to get to the dock, because she would surely want to tie up some loose ends.  Just enough time to finish his preparations for her arrival.  He wasn't sure why he was so confident that she would come – maybe it was simply his knowledge of her thought process and character that he was sure hadn't changed since he had last seen her.  Helen was smart, and she would know that the only answer was to come to him.  

Seamus stood and stretched, his tight white t-shirt riding up to reveal the initial H carved into his flesh just at his hip bone.  He absently fingered the scar that he had created while in prison.  Using only his fingernails, he had dug into his skin night after night to create the small raised letter, a testament to the ultimate betrayal he had suffered.  Once a year he would reopen the wound to remind himself of how his only love had ratted him out and left him to rot in prison.  Now he wouldn't have to, because soon she would be there with him.

Grabbing his denim jacket from the back of the chair, Seamus strode out of the room.  Time to go meet Helen. 


	5. Chapter 5: Meeting Seamus

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A/N:  2 chapters in one night!  Wow!  Hope you enjoy.  Do you think this should be R?

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Dylan rested the back of her head against the green vinyl head rest of the taxi, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.  She was being taken to the docks to meet what would likely be her death, or at best a very unpleasant experience.

She had taken care to make it seem that she had left town – had packed some suitcases and parked her car (with the suitcases in the trunk) at the airport.  But before she did that she took one last visit to Charlie's office.  

Just stepping foot into the beautiful building made the memories swarm in her mind.  She walked slowly down the marble entrance way, the walls lined with pictures of past Angels, women who had given their all for Charlie when Dylan was just a little girl.  Kelly Island, Victoria Clay, Gina Meme, Madison Lee * Just saw her the other day – Nat's favorite Angel – wasn't she really into Astrology?*…these Angels had fought and then moved on with their lives.  Now it was her turn.  * I can't leave.  They need me! * part of her screamed.  She arrived at the inner sanctum, Charlie's office, where the girls took his call every morning.  On the mantel there was a picture of the three of them, on the beach, just ordinary 20-somethings who happened to kick villainous ass almost every day. * We looked so happy. * she thought.  * Why did you have to fucking come back, you bastard!  I don't want to lose them! *  

Dylan gently deposited a small box on the coffee table, filled with some of Nat and Alex's things she had borrowed over the years. She was especially sorry that she had to give back Alex's high heeled leather Prada boots, but it wouldn't be fair to keep them.  *Won't be needed those where I'm going* she thought sarcastically.  On the top of the box she placed a goodbye letter to her best friends:

"Dear Nat and Alex-

I never thought that I would be the first to leave the group, but I feel that my presence is simply putting you and your loved ones into very immediate danger.  Seamus will stop at nothing to get me, so I have decided to leave in the hopes that he will follow and leave you alone.  Please be careful – yeah I know you guys kick ass, but the O'Grady's are really dangerous.  I will be back in touch with you guys later this week to see how things are going with HALO.  Please don't try to follow me…I just can't be an Angel anymore.  I love you too much.  Say goodbye to Bosley for me.

-Always my love, Dylan"

She stood, and walked over to Charlie's desk.  "Thanks for everything Charlie." She said softly, and patted the top of the speaker.  With tears swimming in her eyes and threatening to spill down her pale cheeks, Dylan gave one last long look around the room, and then, with a small smile, turned and left.

It had been the hardest thing she had ever done, she decided, staring out the window of the fast-moving taxi.  *Well, the second hardest * she admitted.  "This is good.  Let me off here please." she called up to the driver.  The taxi ground to a halt at Dock 20.  Dylan ignored the driver's disapproving look about her desire to be left at the docks at 1:05 AM and paid him.  

The taxi pulled away and Dylan began walking in the direction of Dock 22.   She turned back to her previous thoughts, the ocean wind tossing her red curls around her face.  The hardest thing had definitely been when she had decided go to the police and testify against Seamus.  She had met him at a concert when she was only 18.  He was four years older and the most intense man she had ever seen.  Somehow she felt at peace with him, accepted and loved for everything that she was.  After 2 crazy years together, she still loved him with all the passion of her heart, body and soul, but she simply couldn't abide sleeping with a killer anymore.  Yeah, that was something she hadn't told Nat and Alex.  Hell, she had known in the back of her mind who Seamus O'Grady was – the Irish Mob had been just as dangerous eight years ago as it was now.  But somehow, her love for him allowed her to see beyond stories she had heard about his violence and the people he had killed.  She herself had never been good at controlling her temper and had put several people in the hospital with a few well aimed punches, so it was easy to find excuses for the stories just as she found excuses for her own behavior.  

By this time Dylan was at Dock 21, but she didn't notice because she was so engrossed in her thoughts.  * Out of sight, out of mind * she had thought about Seamus' crimes.  But that had changed the night he had shot that De Franco guy.  She and Seamus were driving the nearly empty streets of San Francisco at about 2 AM, listening to a Metallica album and giddy from their recent fuck.  He had leaned over during "Sad But True" and whispered "Helen, you're bloody fucking amazing you know?"  She had looked deep into his green eyes and whispered back "I'm yours Seamus.  Forever."  Remembering that comment made Dylan shiver.  Seamus obviously still considered her his, if not his girl, then at least his next kill.

As if it were yesterday, Dylan could still see the scene: Seamus had pulled into a side street where some guy with curly black hair was sitting outside a bar.  He had kissed her fiercely, then got out of the car.  Full of love for this crazy, sexy man she had shouted "I love you Seamus!  I would die for you!" and greedily watched his retreating ass, cupped lovingly by his tight blue jeans. *My favorites*  Then BANG!  BANG! her attention snapped up to see the guy slump against the wall, two holes in his chest.  Seamus turned to look at her with love and glee in his face, and all she could think was –

"Huh!" Dylan grunted as she ran into something hard.  She had been watching the ground as she walked, and the impact jolted her out of Memory Lane.  She looked up and her breath caught in her throat.  

"Helen.  What a surprise."  He looked her up and down, noting her automatic defense stance.  "Don't even try.  My gang has got 10 guns trained on your little body, so be a good girl, eh?"  Dylan reluctantly relaxed, she didn't want to die just yet.  * If I play along, I'll be able to find out more about HALO and build my plan to take him out *

"I've come to negotiate for my friend's lives." Seamus walked a close circle around her, and she could smell the Irish cologne *What is it called?* that he always wore that used to make her want to jump his bones and now made her tingle pleasantly. *No! Bad thoughts!*  She had gotten close to him during their fight earlier that night, but this was the first time she had actually been able to just look at him.  The streetlight played over his face, throwing his features into sharp relief.  His black hair almost looked blue, and his eyes were like hard emeralds, piercing her thoughts and soul with their gaze. *Shit.  How does he do that?*

Her only recourse was to straighten her back and stand still under his scrutiny.  Suddenly, a hand holding a wet cloth was clamped over her mouth and nose, while another arm held her still.  After a few seconds of struggle, Dylan was forced to breathe in, and she recognized the sour smell.  Chloroform.  * Stupid Dylan * was her last conscious thought.


	6. Chapter 6: Capturing Helen

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A/N:  Sorry for the delay in updates.  I was out of town, and then my muse took a hike as well.  Anyway, expect Chapter 7 very soon!  In this part of the story I begin using Irish slang in Seamus vocabulary, so if you want to know what the heck he's saying, go to the following website: .   It's very helpful.  Thanks again for your reviews, they make me smile. ** ; )**

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The night was slightly chilly for summer, and Seamus was glad he had brought his jacket.  It was an almost sinful pleasure to be back in his Docs, jeans, t-shirts and chains after years of wearing idiotic prison uniforms.  He had always seen his clothes as an extension of his personality and part of his identity, so to be forced to conform, even in that relatively small way, had been very hard for him.   

Impatient, Seamus glanced across the street to see his lookout motioning that Helen was approaching.  Carefully, he looked around the corner.  She was alone.

He was surprised that Helen was so careless, walking with her head down, apparently lost in thought.  Didn't she know there were all sorts of monsters lurking this time of night?  Seamus watched her approach his hiding spot, the wind off the ocean swirling through her hair, brushing it against her cheeks like a lover's caress.  He momentarily recalled her bleached blonde hair tickling his face as she bent over him in bed, her moans urging him – but those thoughts would have to wait till later when he was alone.  Now was time for business.

Seamus waited a beat, then quietly stepped in front of her on the sidewalk, expecting her to see him and stop.  He was surprised when she barreled right into him, her head hitting his chest.  "Helen. What a surprise."  He saw her eyes widen and mouth open slightly when she saw who she had run into, then just as quickly her "Angel" facade descended, as with an emotionless face she pulled into a defensive stance.  Seamus almost grinned at the picture she presented, all kick-ass and that rot.  "Don't even try.  My gang has got 10 guns trained on your little body, so be a good girl, eh?"  

He saw Helen hesitantly relax and stare back at him confidently.  "I've come to negotiate for my friend's lives." She stated.  Seamus ignored her.  *Of course that's why you came, bitch.  Do I look stupid?*  Partly to intimidate her and partly just to more closely examine her, he walked a slow, close circle around her.  He had watched her fight earlier that night, but this was the first time he had been so close to her in over eight years.  Fighting an urge to both punch her and kiss her, Seamus simply looked.  In the streetlight, her hair appeared an impossible combination of silver and red, and her lips were the same pouty shape he had loved years ago.  As he walked around behind her he could smell her: vanilla and almond, earthy and sensual.  *Jaysus she smells good* he thought, and could feel himself hardening just from the sensory memories her scent recalled.  Suddenly he sprang into action, simultaneously wrapping his left arm around her body just under her breasts and his right hand covering her mouth and nose with a Chloroform drenched cloth.  She struggled briefly, but she was no match for his tight muscles and as she breathed he could feel her body start to relax against his.  

She slumped into his arms, unconscious, and Seamus felt a surge of power as he removed the cloth from her face.  Her head lolled against his shoulder, her breath deep and slow.  He knew that she was completely helpless, that he finally had her where he had wanted her for so many years.  With a quick twist of his hands he could snap her neck like a twig.  He could carve his name into her flesh and she wouldn't protest.  Or he could kiss her full lips, squeeze her tits and touch her in all those places she used to like – and she'd never know.  

"Seamus, quit acting the maggot with your little bird there, let's get the fucking show on the road!"   Joseph said as he approached from the other side of the street.  He was a little puzzled by his friend's inactivity.  As far as he was concerned, the red-haired witch deserved to be killed on the spot. 

"Yeah, stop doddering and get in the bloody car!"   This comment by Seamus' cousin Conner seemed to jar him out of his daydream.  He gathered Helen into his arms, her dead weight no match for his hard muscles.  Climbing into the back of the waiting van, Seamus continued to hold her in his lap as the van drove off toward the hideout.

Holding her like he was brought back bittersweet memories.  She used to sit in his lap while they watched the telly.  They both loved to watch reruns of Scooby-Doo (even though he would never admit to it) and she was hooked on watching The Real World.  Helen would lean her head back against his chest, and he would play with her hair.  During commercial breaks, she would turn around in his lap and kiss him, her lips tasting like vanilla and rum, her tongue seeking his and working him into a frenzy.  Bloody hell, how she could kiss!  He remembered that she always kissed as if it were her last, putting all of her love and longing and passion for life into each one.

Yes, Seamus remembered her passion for life that had attracted him to her in the beginning, when they had met at a Metallica concert in San Francisco.  He had seen her in the crowd; a petite blonde with a luscious arse that was poured into her torn jeans.  She was head banging and moving to the music in a way that made him stop and stare.  He had never thought that metal was sexy music, but the way she moved made it so – and it was better than any strip show, because her heart and soul were visible to him at that moment.  She saw him out of the corner of her eye and stopped, a strange look in her eyes.  "I know I was gawking, but you're so fucking gorgeous that I couldn't look away." He had to step close to her and yell to be heard over the music.  She just looked up at him, her face shiny with sweat and radiant with life and smiled, and Seamus knew he was lost.

Jolted once more out of his reverie by the screeching of brakes, he realized that they had arrived at their destination.  Joseph opened the back doors of the van, and Seamus climbed out, still carrying Helen.   Walking down a hall and through a series of doors, he came to the room that he had prepared for her.  It was bare except for an armchair and table in one corner, an overhead light, and chains in the far corner.  Seamus knew that Helen was coming to him of her own accord, but he was a smart man, and so he also knew better than to underestimate her power or her motives.  Chains were likely the one thing she could not break out of.

"Joseph, help here!" he called back into the hall, and his friend came in to help him chain Helen up.  Joseph held her body in place against the wall while Seamus carefully locked the shackles around her ankles and her wrists.  Not wanting to injure her, he had taken care to lightly pad the inside of those that would be holding her wrists.

Stepping back, he and Joseph surveyed their handiwork.  "That's it then" Seamus said.  "I'm goina wait 'til she wakes, and then take care of her."

Joseph gave him a sly wink and left the room, locking the door behind him as had been previously agreed.  Seamus stood in front of Helen, watching her sleep for a few minutes.  Then, after peering cautiously over his shoulder as if someone were watching, he slowly put out his hand and touched her cheek.  It was soft and warm, and he allowed himself the brief pleasure of remembering her delicate and perfect skin on his before stiffening and pulling away.  * Mooning over the bitch that put you away!?  You stupid git! * he thought, striding in anger over to the armchair and throwing himself into it.  

Glaring at the woman across the room from him, Seamus ran his hands distractedly through his hair and settled back. The chair was comfortable, and he was tired.   * Gave her everything, I did.  Bloody lived for her  - and she fucking shows her love by ratting me out.  She will pay for betraying me.  She will pay.  She will pay. * With that mantra playing in his head, Seamus succumbed to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7: Dreams

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A/N:  The following website: .   is still useful for the Irish slang.  Another chapter everyone!  Happy reading!  ** ; )**

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Dylan was dreaming.  Everything was dark, but someone was there – and they had the rings.  She could hear them clinking together on the person's finger.   * If they're clinking, then the person must have a small finger – it has to be a woman * "Natalie, Alex!" Dylan cried, hoping that it was one of her friends in the dark with her.  She had only seen them the night before, but she already missed them.  There was no response, but she heard the clinking coming closer.  *Maybe it's a guy and he's just jingling the rings in the palm of his hand * she thought.  "Sea-Seamus?"  She asked quietly, hoping that it wasn't him.  No reply.

She felt a presence near her and reached out her hand, searching for contact.  Her fingers touched something soft *fur? * , smelled an exotic scent, and a female's voice spoke in her ear.  "Typical impetuous Pisces – always running away from your problems.  Hello Angel…miss me?" and a hot tongue licked up her face.

"Wha-!" Dylan started awake, and blinked slowly.  She was still chained to the wall, but by now her fingers had started to go numb from her arms being above her head for a few hours.  * Hours? * Actually, she wasn't quite sure how long she had been chained, since she had been unconscious when Seamus' thugs had brought her in.  She had woken once before, but the spinning of the room had made her close her eyes and sleep once more.  Looking about the room, she saw that Seamus was sitting in the opposite corner of the room, slumped back in his armchair, asleep.  * Good.  At least the son-of-a-bitch won't be bothering me for a while*

She thought back to her dream, analyzing every aspect of it.  Dylan took her dreams very seriously, and for many years had kept a journal by her bed to record the ones she remembered.  Upon joining the Angels, Dylan had told Nat and Alex that dreams could be used as clues on their cases because the dreaming mind could analyze and think about facts and people in ways the waking mind would not allow itself to.  At first the girls had been skeptical, but after several of Dylan's dreams had given them leads on cases, they had had to change their opinion.  

Dylan wasn't really sure what to make of this dream.  The voice had sounded very familiar to her, but it wasn't one she had heard often.  *How did she know I was an Angel?  Most people don't even know we exist! *  Unless…*No fucking way!  An old Angel?  But which one?  Wait, didn't she mention that I was a Pisces?  Hmmm… astrology…* "No!"

Dylan turned her eyes back to Seamus.  She needed to make a phone call, had to make contact with Nat and Alex, and he was her only means of doing so.  *Bet the bastard won't let me. * she thought.  He didn't look so hard and angry in his sleep – in fact, he looked like the man she remembered.  His ink-black mohawk was messed, and his mouth was soft and slightly open.  *He's a lot more pleasant asleep *, she thought with a smirk.  That could be because he wasn't digging into her with his green eyes, or maybe because he wasn't talking.  * Too bad I have to wake him*

"Seamus" she said, but it came out as more of a harsh whisper.  She swallowed, wetting her throat.  "Seamus" she said, loudly this time.  He shifted in the chair and moaned, but then was still again.  * Shit.  I forgot how hard he is to wake up.  How the hell did he survive in jail? * "Seamus, wake up.  Seamus!"

"Helen…" he said softly, rubbing his face against the chair.  * What the hell? * she thought.

"Seamus, God dammit!  Wake the fuck up!" she yelled, pulling against her chains.

Suddenly, he was on his feet, knife in his raised hand, eyes furiously searching the room.  His green eyes settled on her, and he dropped his arm.  "Jaysus, Helen.  What the bloody fuck do you want, woman?"

"Oh don't be all puss faced, Seamus." Dylan drawled, throwing back the slang he used to use with her.  "I just have to use the phone.  Now."  She said, trying to sound forceful.

"You're off your nut if you think I'm going to let you phone your little friends and tell 'em where we are." Glaring, he sat back down and rubbed his forehead, yawning.  

"I don't know where we are, dumbass.  I was knocked out when you brought me here."

"Oi!"  He looked up at her in surprise.  "Calling me a dumbarse, now are we?  Cheek will get you nowhere with me.  I'm running the fucking show, sweetheart, not you."

"Seamus, please.  It's an emergency."  Dylan pleaded with him. "I'll take less than a minute.  I just have to tell them – just like a few sentences." She strained against the chains, eyes pulling at his.  "Please Seamus.  I promise I won't say anything about you."

Seamus was silent, eyes hard and searching.  "Fine.  But if you say anything I don't like, I'll belt your lovely arse."

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Seamus was dreaming.  She was ahead of him in the dark, he could hear her loud panting breaths as she ran.  Her fiery hair caught the light of the streetlamp as she rounded the corner.  He pounded after her, careful of an assault as he turned the corner and followed down the lonely street.  He saw her up ahead of him, tiring, slowing.  He put on a burst of speed, thankful for his training during prison.  With a lunge he grabbed her arm and smashed her against a brick wall, her head rebounded with a crack.  With a quick move, his knife was against her throat.  Her head bobbed in fatigue, and the knife cut into her.  Red blood, blood as red as her hair trickled down her soft skin from the knick.  Hazel eyes fluttered up to meet his.  "Seamus…" she whispered.  He moved to pin her with his body, his hard chest pushing against her soft breasts.  He rested his head against hers, gently rubbing her silky hair with his cheek, smelling her light perfume and tangy sweat.  "Seamus" she whispered again, breath tickling his ear.

"Helen…" he said softly, and with a low moan bent down to crush her full lips with his own.  She pushed against him, blood still trickling down her throat, staining their shirts as they kissed –

"Wake the fuck up!"  Ripped from his dream, he sprang to his feet, ready for a fight with his knife clenched in his hand.  Then he slowly relaxed.  It was only her, still chained against the far wall. *Fucking dream.  Got me all riled up * 

"Jaysus, Helen.  What the bloody fuck do you want, woman?" * Why do you torment me, you miserable bird? *

"Oh don't be all puss faced, Seamus." Dylan said, throwing back the slang he used to use with her.  "I just have to use the phone.  Now."  *Do I look like a bloody fool? * he thought, and then winced at the memory of the dream. * You're supposed to kill her, not snog her!*

"You're off your nut if you think I'm going to let you phone your little friends and tell 'em where we are." Glaring, he sat back down and rubbed his forehead, yawning.  Seamus hadn't got much sleep within the last few days, too busy making plans for Helen.  * I swore I only closed me eyes for a second *

"I don't know where we are, dumbass.  I was knocked out when you brought me here."

"Oi!"  He looked up at her, anger rising at the name.  "Calling me a dumbarse, now are we?  Cheek will get you nowhere with me.  I'm running the fucking show, sweetheart, not you."

"Seamus, please.  It's an emergency."  She was pleading with him. "I'll take less than a minute.  I just have to tell them – just like a few sentences." She strained against the chains, eyes almost at tears.  "Please Seamus.  I promise I won't say anything about you."

Seamus was silent, examining her face and desperate eyes.  She looked upset and tired, but determined.  She'd probably yell and annoy him for hours if he didn't let her make the call.  * I should unchain her.  Don't want her to lose those arms.  But then the bloody bird will fight…*  "Fine.  But if you say anything I don't like, I'll belt your lovely arse." * Maybe I will anyway *


	8. Author's Note

Sorry, this is just an Author's Note!  : (

I noticed on the previous Author's Notes for chapters 6 & 7 that fanfiction.net would not allow me to post the website from which I got my Irish slang.  If you want the website, please email me and I'd be happy to send it to you.

Also, some of you may have noticed that Chapter 6 would not load last night…however it seems to be working fine now, thank God!

Finally, I believe the next chapter will probably move into R territory, so make sure you keep looking for the story (since the automatic sort is G -- PG-13).  It may also be a few days coming, as I honestly have not started writing it yet!


	9. Chapter 8: The Call

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A/N:  Sorry the update took so long.  The next chapter will be up within a few days – I'm making plans for where I want this story to go (yes there will be smuttiness and action – just be patient!).   I have upped the rating to R for language and sexual situations.  I know that there is a lot of cussing, but it's nothing you didn't hear in middle school. Your reviews keep me going.  Feel free to give constructive criticism or suggestions – I don't bite!

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"Let me use my cell phone, or otherwise they'll suspect something."  The last thing Dylan wanted was for her friends to come riding to the rescue – they would surely be killed.

"Right on.  Don't want your mates coming to spoil our party." Seamus drawled out.  He moved to stand in front of her with his hands folded across his chest, biceps flexed in an altogether delicious way.  *Delicious? Dylan!  Cut it out!  Emergency here!*  Dylan looked up at him, waiting for him to move into action.  Finally he spoke.  "And the fucking phone is where?"

*God I'm such an idiot!* Trying to appear unruffled, Dylan snidely replied "Where the hell to do think it is?  In my pocket!"

His green eyes widened slightly, then a sly smirk settled over his face.  "Your pocket, aye?  Well, let me help you with that…"  Uncrossing his arms he reached for her, and Dylan felt a slight shiver run through her as his large strong hands caressed the front of her pants pockets, obviously looked for the phone.  

Closing her eyes and inhaling quickly to try and ignore his still familiar touch, she spoke through gritted teeth.  "In the back pocket, you eejit!"  Seamus merely smirked and stepped closer to her, his hips barely an inch from hers.  Dylan glared up at him, feeling completely overpowered and helpless.  Those intense eyes held her own as he slowly, almost seductively, moved his hands over her hips and toward her back pockets.  His hands paused, and she realized that she had pressed herself flush against the wall in an effort to move away from him and thus he could not reach her phone.  Grudgingly she arched off the wall to allow his reach, only to feel her hips brush against his.  Before she could even register what was happening, his hands were cupping her ass and lower back, pulling her into his hard body.  A *What the hell is he doing?* flashed through her head, and then a *God he feels good* as an all too familiar tingling heat rushed to where their bodies were joined.  

It was as though time stood still.  Details suddenly came to focus, such as her heartbeat, loud and pounding in her ears, and his, pulsing in his erection that was pressed against her.  His cologne, his hands heating her skin through her clothes, his incredible mouth.  Giving herself to the moment, she looked at him through half-closed eyes.  He was staring at her mouth, and Dylan almost moaned as she watched him lick his lips, thinking of all the wondrous things that tongue could do, had done to her.  She waited, her lips parted, as he slowly lowered his mouth toward hers, and she almost went through with it.  Part of her longed to taste him again, to kiss the man who surpassed all others she had been with before or since.  But the rational side of her that had been in hiding for the past 2 minutes finally surfaced.  At the last possible minute her head turned to the side so only her cheek received his kiss.  "Seamus, the phone please."  She pronounced each word slowly, hoping to mask the confusion and desire she felt.  Seamus' lips pulled back quickly, and because she stubbornly refused to turn back to him she missed the hurt that flashed in his eyes.  He didn't move away completely though; as he pulled her small cell out of her jeans he smacked her right ass cheek, making her hiss at the impact.  *Bastard.  Always has to have the last fucking word*

Finally breaking the almost magnetic contact, Seamus moved a step away from her, examining the phone.  He looked like he was trying to calm down. "Red, aye?  To go with your temper?  And it's 5:54."   

Dylan didn't respond, she was still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened.  *I was actually going to let him kiss me!  I was going to let a fucking murderer who wants to kill my friends kiss me!* In the back of her mind, Dylan knew that it wouldn't have ended there if the kiss had happened.  As sick as it was, her body had been crying out to his, and it was no secret that he wanted her, as evidenced by the large bulge in his worn jeans.  *I don't know if I could have stopped* This thought scared her to no end, but somehow she was comforted by the fact that _he_ had stopped when she asked.  He had no commitment of honor to her, she was chained, helpless and he had made it clear earlier that night that he had violent intentions.  *He could have fucked me against the wall with my chains still on and I couldn't have stopped him – or wouldn't have stopped him…but he didn't.  Maybe the asshole's not as bad as I thought* 

"Helen.  You want to make the fucking call or wot?" his voice brought her back to focus.  He was at her right, leaning casually against the wall on his left shoulder, watching her, his face unreadable. 

"Of course I still want to make a call, asshole."  The insult was out before she could think, but the barb merely glanced off of him as he looked down at the phone.  At a small 3 inches, it was dwarfed by his large hand. 

"The number" he simply said.

"555-2539.  Hold it up to my ear so I can talk."  Dylan watched in quiet amusement as his large fingers carefully punched the phone's tiny buttons.  No one would ever guess it to look at him, but Seamus had been an excellent pianist, having already played for twelve years by the time Dylan met him.  Initially the lessons had been a gift from his dying grandmother in Ireland, bent on making sure her favorite grandson had some kind of talent.  Over the years the piano had become a secret pastime for Seamus that he rarely revealed to anyone for fear of ridicule.  Dylan remembered the first time she had heard him play, about 4 months into their relationship.  She had heard piano music as she approached the door of his house, which then abruptly stopped when she rang the doorbell.  When he opened the door, she asked him who had been playing.  Looking rather embarrassed, Seamus had eventually admitted that it had been he.  Dylan had immediately sat down and demanded that he play for her.  Unable to refuse her anything, he had played _Claire de Lune_ (Moonlight) by Debussy, then moved on to _Rapsodie__ on a Theme of Paganini by Rachmaninoff.  Dylan had lain on the couch, watching him, amazed at how his hands seemed to skim over and caress the keys like they were living things.  He was such a contradiction, her Seamus. His hair was in pulled into 3 inch spikes, he had on his studded belt and wristband, his jeans were torn and the foot on the piano pedal was encased in a scuffed, steel-toed Doc Martin.  All in all he looked like the street-smart punk he was. Yet his face was lit up with the joy of the music that was cascading from his fingers, and his body moved forward and back, adding emphasis to the beautiful chords that he knew so well that he could close his eyes in abandon.  Dylan knew that Seamus was sharing his most intimate self with her and that she was seeing something that no one else would ever see.  Watching him, she had realized for the first time that she was totally and completely in love._

*I wonder if he can still play…after 8 years, he has to miss the music…*  Dylan realized that Seamus had completed the dial, and he held the phone to her ear left ear with his right hand.  She was calling Alex's cell phone, hoping not to wake her, just wanting to leave a message.  Luck wasn't on her side however.

"Hello, this is Alex Mundy."

*Damn her and her early morning cheerfulness* thought Dylan.  Instead, in a sleepy voice she said "Hey Alex.  It's me.  I just had this crazy dream. *Yawn* It's Nat's favorite angel, _you know_ - the De Soto, she'll run _rings_ around you.  Careful."

"Dylan, I'm not sure what you mean.  Are you talking about…?"

"Hhmmm, yeah.  Trust me on this one.  It's in the _stars_.  I'll see you in a few hours, I'm *Yawn* going back to sleep."

"Ok, Dylan.  See you at 9:30."  And across the city, Alex was left in her kitchen, a puzzled look on her face as she made muffins for Jason and her father.

As Seamus hung up for her, Dylan hoped that she had gotten her message across.  She wasn't sure how much Seamus knew about the rings, or if he had been contacted by Madison and her thugs but she hadn't wanted to take that chance.  "You're a cryptic one, aren't you Helen?  Secret codes and all.  Hope you didna teller things you shouldna."  Seamus had walked in front of her again, and deposited the phone in his back pocket.  Now he stood with his feet apart, arms folded and rocking back on his heels, his eyes dark in warning and distrust.

Dylan shook her head, exasperated. "I didn't tell her anything about this.  I promised you I wouldn't."  As she said the last sentence Seamus tensed abruptly and his facial features contorted into what she could only assume was cold fury.

"Aye, promises, Helen, bloody fucking promises.  Not something you're good at, aye?"  He was so upset his voice was shaking.  "Promised me you'd be wit me forever, you did.  Next thing is, I'm in the two-bulb watching your fucking arse walk away!" By now he was shouting.  "Jaysus Helen!  Doya not know what that did to me?  I felt a bloody gobshite for loving you, trusting you.  I woulda done fucking anything an' everything for you.  You were me soulmate, me bloody life.  And you threw me away like a piece o' shite.  A fucking piece o' shite!"  

As he had started to yell, Dylan shrank back against the wall, trying to escape from his wrath.  Seamus had a very bad temper, which usually turned to violence.  Throughout their relationship he had never laid a rough hand on her, but she knew that now there was no love to protect her from his anger.  The brick at the right side of her face exploded as his fist punched into the wall, and she cried out in fear.  *Shit, he's going to kill me* she thought.  Next he punched with his left, sending shards of brick flying and coating Dylan's cheek with dust.  Then her chin was grabbed and wrenched up so that she would look at him.  He was breathing heavily and his eyes, normally so bright green it hurt to look at them, were almost black with anger.  When he spoke it was through clenched teeth as though he was trying to rein himself in.  "Guess wot, Helen.  You can't fucking ignore me now.  I'm here to stay."

With that, he harshly flung away her chin so that her face snapped to the side, then turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.  As the door closed with a boom, Dylan was left to dazedly contemplate the meaning of the tears she had glimpsed in Seamus' eyes.


	10. Another Author's Note

Sorry folks…just another author's note!

Thanks to all my readers who have continued to pester me to update.  Your support means a lot.  Sorry for the lack of an update for the last 3 months (What?!?  It's been that long?!  Shit.).  I have been uber busy with college, work, homework, bf, etc. etc.  However, after renting CA:FT this weekend, I think I feel some updates coming.  My problem is that I have lots of ideas but have not decided how to string them together or where exactly I want the story to go.  However, I am thinking of writing a small vignette of Seamus in jail before the movie (and yes, there will be some smut going on), which I would probably post on aff.net so I don't have to worry about rating (although depending on the outcome I could post it here too).  So I think that my muse has come back to me in the form of a very very muscular Justin Theroux, and is calling to me to write some more.  

Please continue to bear with me, and hopefully there will be an update for you all very soon.

Also, as I watched CA:FT, I realized that some of the things in my story don't exactly match with what happened in the movie.  At first I felt bad, but then I decided: "too bad!"  Sorry if that disturbs anyone, but I like it my way, so there!

Thanks again, you guys are great.


	11. Chapter 9: Inner Demons

Author's Note:  I know everyone probably thought that I feel off the face of the earth since I haven't updated in 5 months, but I'm back!  Thanks to all of you that have continued to check the story and encourage me to write.  I truly appreciate the support.  About this chapter: Things are starting to get a little darker and angstier (I don't think that is a word).  I know I promised smut, but that is coming in about 1 to 2 chapters.  I've invested a lot of time in this story and I don't like the idea of the characters just having sex without any plot development (this is not a PWP fan fic).  Also, this chapter contains an inner monologue which I hope is not too confusing.  I hope to have another chapter posted within 2 weeks.

Shameless plug: I am also working on A Knight's Tale fan fic that will be posted soon.

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When Dylan opened her eyes, she was still alone in the bare room, still chained to the wall, and still confused in her reaction to Seamus' emotional explosion.  The only thing that had changed was her physical condition.  She could no longer feel her hands or move her fingers, and her arms seemed to have detached from her shoulders sometime during her nap.  With a low moan of pain, she slowly turned her stiff neck to the right and saw that her arms were indeed still attached, but that her fingers down to the middle of her forearm had turned a bloodless white.  Not only that, but a growing pressure was reminding her that she would have to pee soon. "Shit" she said under her breath, "this is not so good."  Then "Stupid Seamus," as she thought of who had put her in the chains, knowing she was not strong enough to get out of them.  Lastly, a tired sigh and a sarcastic "Brillant Dylan" as she remembered who had "allowed" herself to put in chains to begin with.  

Dylan did manage a small smile though when she thought of why she was putting herself through this hell: her two best friends and their future happiness.  She had only to close her eyes and she could see them before her, beautiful and athletic, happy upon measure, as they deserved to be.  They would get married, have children, and live to a ripe old age.  As the only family she had left, they were more important to her than her own life.  *After all, what chance do I have of marriage?* she thought bitterly.  *The only guys who are attracted to me are usually just in for a quick "bam-bam-thankyou-mam", often with a nice serving of "I'm a homicidal maniac and now I'm going to kill you" thrown in for good measure.*  A grimace twisted her full lips as she remembered being shot at by Knox, her near-drowning with Neal, and Justin the mechanic who had thought it would be fun to try and stab her after he saw her talk to another guy at a bar.  

Dylan knew that part of her problem was her ridiculous obsession with bad boys.  *But doesn't every girl want a bad boy who will take them on a wild and crazy ride?*  she tried to assure herself.   *And even if I was to find some nice guy who would like me, he could never know about my past or who I really am, because nobody could love me after that.*  Dylan tried to resist, but memories of Helen Zass began to trickle through the dam she had built up to keep them at bay: her father's alcoholism and violent temper, her parents death in the car accident when she was 7, the years of abuse at the shitty foster home in Arizona, running away to San Francisco to stay with an older friend, and the alcohol and coke she had consumed in trying to forget it all.  She resolutely fought to find some good in her past, in her youth, and discovered that the first true happiness she had experienced was after meeting a certain green-eyed Irishman.  *Seamus really loved me, the bastard* she remembered with fondness.  Seamus had helped her get off of coke and showed her that she was worth something, that she deserved love, care, and respect, that she was more than a good fuck; she was a good person.  

At the time, she couldn't figure out why a guy like him would want a ruined girl like her.  He was intelligent, artistic, sensitive (when his mates weren't around), dead sexy, and an exceptional lover.  She was ugly (the bleached blonde look she had adopted when she ran away from the foster home did nothing for her), tired, untrusting, and bruised on the inside from years of hateful words.  Somehow, Seamus had loved her and accepted her, even the darkness of her past and the emotional baggage Helen had carried with her.  

He had been like a savior to her, so how could she not accept everything that he was in return?  She hadn't known about his family's "business" until they had already been together for a year, and by that time she was hooked on Seamus.  He was like her new drug of choice, except that he built her up instead of destroying her like coke had.  Looking back on the situation, Dylan thought *I should have known better.  But the family was so used to their façade of normality that no teenage girl could penetrate it without their consent.* And even when Seamus had told her about O'Grady mob and their connections throughout the United Kingdom and the United States, Dylan had found it easy to ignore.  Ireland and Boston were far away, and the criminal intrigue couldn't possibly touch the intense passion that she and her lover shared.  Besides, didn't mobs just hire hit men to do the dirty work for them?  They didn't actually kill people themselves, right?  Dylan had been so sure that Seamus would never kill anyone… *Oh, let's be honest, Dylan* she said to herself.  *You fucking knew that Seamus had a temper.  You knew he could be violent when provoked.  You knew that he really fucked up some guys in that biker club after they came after you.*  Dylan winced involuntarily as she admitted the dirty truth to herself.  *Joseph had told you about that other guy that Seamus had supposedly killed, and you didn't care!  You didn't even care that he was a murderer, because he loved you and therefore you could pretend he wasn't a bad person *  

"But I saw him murder De Franco!  I couldn't ignore that!" she said aloud, her words barely audible because her throat was so dry.  *But you've killed many people too, Dylan* said a small voice in her head, *more than he ever did*.  "But the people I've killed were evil fucks who would have done bad things to innocent people if I hadn't have stepped in." she insisted out loud.  "And besides, it was my job!"  *Listen to yourself*, said the voice.  *You try to justify the things that you've done, but in the end, you're just as bad as he was!  You're a murderer too!*  "But he killed innocent people!" she cried, long overdue tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes.  *But do you know they were innocent?  Did you even bother to ask?  They were probably just as bad as the people you've killed.*

"No!" Dylan gasped, the tears now running freely down her cheeks.  She mentally grasped at the last few flimsy pieces of the veil of self-worth she had woven for herself years ago.  "I'm a good person" she said firmly, but it came out more like an uncertain whisper.  *So was he* said the inner voice. *And like the heartless bitch you are, you turned him in, betrayed the one person who loved you!*  Suddenly, the fluorescent lights in the ceiling were turned off, leaving Dylan in the darkness.  It was the final straw.  Dylan visibly collapsed, her numb wrists bearing her weight as her legs buckled and she succumbed to wracking sobs.  

"Seamus" she croaked, but no one answered.  

An hour later, totally spent by her tears, Dylan completed her humiliation by pissing herself.


End file.
